


All Knotted Up

by thinkwritexpress



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Kink, Shibari
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22494715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkwritexpress/pseuds/thinkwritexpress
Summary: You're Instagram famous for your Shibari photos and work, but nobody knows who you are. When Sam stumbles upon you in the midst of it all, things get a little... knotted up.
Relationships: Sam Winchester x you, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You, sam winchester x reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [there_must_be_a_lock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/there_must_be_a_lock/gifts).



You tug the rope, tightening the last knot and pulling everything into place, then take a step back, proud of your handiwork. You check your camera viewfinder, then adjust some of the lighting and set pieces around the torso before taking pictures, pulling the camera from the tripod and moving around to get closer pictures and different angles. 

The photos come out looking really good and you upload them to your computer before doing some editing on them to get the pictures looking  _ exactly _ how you want, and once they’re perfect, you upload them to your Instagram account. Stepping away from the laptop, you set about cleaning up your workspace, carefully un-knotting the rope and pulling it off before rolling it up and putting it on its proper hook. You shut the big photo lights off, plug the camera in, and then grab your laptop and the mannequin before leaving the room, making sure to lock it on your way to your bedroom. 

Laying on your bed, you think back to when you first started with shibari. A stolen mannequin and old rope were your original materials, not the best but not horrible. Your photos at first were just taken on your phone with a white sheet and a lamp as backdrop and lighting; they weren’t perfect, but they weren’t awful either. You’d made an Instagram account - ropepractitioner - to keep track of your progress and your work overall, visually, and somehow you’d gained followers quickly. At first, you’d checked out the account of every new follower, curious about the type of people following, but after one too many straight up nude accounts, you’d become more selective, only looking into accounts with names that interested you. 

That’s how you’d found out that Sam Winchester, your lifelong crush and the man living just down the hall from you, follows your Shibari account. Always a lover of books and monster lore, you’d been intrigued by the handle “lorelover83” and had gone to see what the account involved. The photos on the account were gorgeous photos of old book and their pages, some with clear type and some faded, all beautiful. Some of the books look familiar, but you brush it off as having seen so many books in your life, at least at first. That is until you come across a book you’d seen just a few days ago, on the exact pages you’d been looking at. 

Plus, the captions were lore tidbits that, to an uninitiated onlooker, would seem like fun mythology, but to any in-the-know hunter would be invaluable information, so obviously the account was a hunter-run thing. It only made sense that Sam Winchester, king of lore and research with the eternal personal wi-fi hotspot, would run an Instagram page with hunting tips for anyone involved.

You don’t say anything to Sam of course, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and life goes on. You keep practicing between hunts, picking up rope and ties and mannequins when you can, posting pictures as you go. You figure out what content people want, what content you want to post, and figure out how photo editing works. Slowly but surely your follower count goes up, and it’s a point of pride that your hobby has gained so much popularity. One night when you’re working on a new shoot though, it all comes out. 

Generally, you make sure the door to your “studio” is closed tight, not wanting Sam or Dean to stumble in, but in the midst of everything, your dinner isn’t agreeing with your stomach. You hurry out of the room and shut the door, heading straight for the bathroom, but when you get back, the door is partially open, and your heart stops.  _ Maybe it just creaked open. Maybe I just didn’t shut it all the way. _

Pushing the door open the rest of the way, your heart stops cold when you see Sam standing by your half-tied mannequin, examining it closely. You’re not sure what to do, so you announce your presence by coughing, which makes Sam jump guiltily.

“S-Sorry, I just… I saw the door was open, and I was looking for you, I didn’t mean…” He’s flustered, cheeks burning, eyes staring at the floor, and while you’re definitely embarrassed, seeing Sam like this is too cute for words.

“It’s fine Sam, it’s my fault. I should’ve shut the door better. But now that you’re in here, what do you think of it so far? I’m about halfway through.” You motion to the mannequin beside him, walking over and getting back to work.

Sam hesitates, then lifts his eyes and watches, enraptured as your hands move deftly with the rope, knotting and looping and forming the design exactly how you want. 

“It looks amazing! I’ve never seen anyone doing Shibari in person, you’re really good at it.” His voice is full of awe and when you look up from your work, he’s looking at you with wonder, like you’re using magic.

“I might have to put some videos of me working on my Instagram, give people a behind-the-scenes look. Good idea Sam!” You smile at him before turning your focus back on your work.

“You… You have an Instagram account for this stuff?” He asks, stumbling over the words, surprised.

“Yeah. You follow me, you know? Ropepractitioner? That’s me.” Dropping the name of your account makes your heart pound; you’d never told anyone of the account before - except Charlie, who had helped you set it up and still helps run it occasionally - and nobody that followed you knew anything personal about you. Telling Sam is a big, trusting step, which makes you terrified.

When Sam’s been quiet for too long, you look up to see his jaw dropped, eyes wide with awe. “ _ You’re _ ropepractitioner? Holy shit! You’re amazing! Your account is gorgeous! Your work is so good!” Sam starts fangirling and you have to let go of the rope in your hands to grab his hands, keeping him in place.

“Sam, Sam please. Yes, that’s my account. I’ve had a lot of practice and it’s been a journey of growth. Please don’t freak out that much, I’m still just me.” It’s your turn to be flustered, the praise unusual and slightly uncomfortable coming from someone you know; the kinky side of your life is something you’d never planned on sharing with anyone you know.

“Of course you’re still you, you’re just also the rope goddess that I’ve admired for months now.” Sam scoffs, then curses. “Shit! I, uh, didn’t mean to say that out loud. You’re great, that’s all. It’s cool knowing you’re also into this, and also that you’re so good at it.”

There’s an awkward pause where neither of you know what to say, and then Sam audibly gulps, looking nervous as hell as he asks, “Would you… Would you mind letting me be a model sometime?”


	2. Shibari Sam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam takes his turn under the rope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by ladymidnightt on tumblr. Part 2 of 3!! I'm so excited for this, I had a great time writing it!  
> Feedback is like crack to your writers, spread the love :D

The rope slides easily between your hands as you play with it, studying the paused video in front of you. The pattern seems easy enough, but even the easiest shibari design requires careful and almost obsessive concentration to get it right. Plus, now that you’re doing this on a real person, it’s nerve-wracking. Messing up has very real consequences now. Even though you’ve done this design on your mannequin already, it’s the first time you’re working on Sam, and you’re understandably nervous. Plus, a shirtless Sam Winchester? You’re only human, and he’s an Adonis, it’s hard to not admire the man’s beauty.

For his part, Sam looks totally calm, even excited, and he’s sitting as still as he can as he watches you unabashedly. His gaze makes you simultaneously nervous and confident, and you shake only a little as you start your work. You keep your touch light, moving swiftly and surely as you follow through the motions you’ve done many times. 

However, when Sam hisses in pain, you freeze. “Can you, uh, loosen that last knot? Or move it? It’s hitting a spot that’s not comfortable.” Sam sounds sheepish, almost embarrassed to be asking, but you move quickly, undoing the rope further back than he asked. Your gaze shifts between Sam and the rope, scrutinizing, trying to find the best place for the knot, trying to remember everything about rope safety you’ve read.

“Sorry, working with a live model is… odd. Especially since you’re so much bigger than any of the mannequins.” You try to stay calm, but you’re a wailing mess inside, worried about Sam and mortified that you fucked up. Your mind trails down a rabbit hole of self-disappointment as you manipulate the rope, but Sam grabs your hands, rope and all.

“Listen, Y/N, please don’t beat yourself up about this. We’re both new to each other, in this sense, and it’s natural for things to not be perfect; hell, if it was perfect on the first try, that’d be some God-like luck. And while you’re definitely a goddess, especially with the rope, ‘perfection’” he puts air quotes around the word, “is not achievable for anyone. Don’t feel bad because the knot wasn’t comfortable. It happens.” It feels like he read your mind with how spot-on his words are. You know, logically, that stuff like that  _ does _ happen, that perfection isn’t real, but you still have that nagging guilt. 

Sam smiles with sad understanding and gives your hand a squeeze before letting them go. “Go ahead and keep going, I can’t wait to see what this looks like when it’s done,” he offers encouragement, and you steady yourself with a deep breath before continuing your work.

“Thanks for understanding, Sam. I’m… Well, I’m honestly kind of nervous about all this, working with a real model and all, plus like I said, you’re bigger than I’m used to- not that you’re fat, you’re just muscled, and have broader shoulders than my mannequins and-” 

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, his laughter cutting you off. “Honestly (Y/N), it’s fine! Your mannequins are all petitie and female, of which I am neither. Plus, I’m just as nervous as you are. I have complete faith in your abilities, but your account is one I’ve followed for a while, and to have you, an artist I admire, using my body to make your art… I feel like a fifteen year old boy meeting his celebrity crush or something!” He ducks his head at the last statement, but you manage to catch the blush dusting his cheeks, and try to ignore the heat across your own.  _ Sam doesn’t have a crush on me, he just admires my skill _ . Or that’s what you tell yourself at least.

You continue working, trying to keep your mind focused on the rope and not how nice it feels to touch Sam, not the little shivers he gives or the goosebumps that appear across his skin periodically. After a few other re-ties, you finish, pulling the last knot into place with a satisfying tug. 

You step in front of him and motion upward; Sam stands up silently, watching you move around him and get the scene set up. As you fall into photographer mode, you shift the chair around, then direct him: “Alright Sam, I need you to sit with your chest against the back of the chair and back to the camera. Face the sheet.” He follows your instructions, your hands nearby to keep him steady, and when he’s in place, it takes your breath away how gorgeous he looks. “They’re going to love this,” you mutter, then get to work, taking photo after photo, changing the angle and pose as needed. You work fast, not sure how long Sam can handle having the rope on him, and once you’re satisfied with all the photos, you put the camera down and untie him. 

The red marks of rope burn on his body worry you a little, but when you lightly touch one to test it, Sam leans into your touch, letting out a soft hum of pleasure. You let your fingers trail over the marks, following where the ties hand been, and Sam lets you, at first tracking your movements with his gaze but then closing his eyes, just enjoying your touch. You’re enjoying it too, your mind wandering to images of touching Sam elsewhere, tying him up in a less pretty but more pleasure-conducive way...

Clearing your throat, you step away to grab some salve for the marks and to clear your head. You can’t be fantasizing about Sam Winchester, he’s just your model and nothing more! He probably doesn’t even want to sleep with you! 

You hand Sam the lotion then hurry to your worktable “That was great Sam. Put this on your marks, it’ll help with the irritation. I’m going to edit these, and you can help me decide which ones to post. If you need help with your back, let me know!” You busy yourself with editing the photos, trying to block out Sam’s presence so you can focus.

Eventually Sam sits down beside you and watches you work, editing the photos to look how you want them. When you’re finished, you scoot over a bit so he has more room, and motion to the screen. “Go ahead and help me pick which I post.” 

Sam clicks through, marking a few he likes, and soon you’ve narrowed it down to ten choices, four of his and three of yours, plus three that you both liked. Getting them queued up, you debate over a caption, not sure what to say about your first male model.

“Why not caption it ‘Long-time fan turned model for a shoot! What do y’all think?’ and the hashtags make a change, shibari, kinbaku, and rope art’” Sam offers, typing it up for you, and it’s so much like your other captions that you don’t have much of a decision to make. You press “post” and shut the laptop, turning to face Sam. 

“Wanna grab a drink to celebrate?” You ask, and Sam stands, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on. 

“Lead on.” 

~~~~

A few hours after Sam’s shoot photos go up, you check your notifications, and they’re  _ filled.  _ Even more than your usual posts. Comments galore, most of them asking for more of him modeling, but some asking who he is, complimenting your skills as usual, and asking about your setup and materials. Mostly though, comments thirsting after Sam. You screenshot a few of them to share with him and write up a text:

**YN** : Check the likes and comments on your shoot!

**SW** _ : Wow, a lot of people really like this one _

**YN** : You dummy, they like *you*

**YN** : Would you mind being a regular model?

**SW** :  _ Anything for you, (Y/N) _

**SW:** _ Goodnight Miss Rope Master :P _

You stare at your phone, squinting at Sam’s last two messages. Part of you wants to believe he’s flirting, but the logical part tells you that he’s just teasing, and he’s agreeing because he likes the attention from your followers. That’s what makes the most sense, right? Sam’s never shown interest in you before. You fall asleep with those thoughts running through your mind, emotions flopping between giddiness at the prospect of touching a shirtless Sam more, and pride in your work and how popular it has become.

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Kinbaku/Shibari rope bondage for @there-must-be-a-lock Lou’s 2k(inky) Celebration  
> Beta'd by ladymidnightt on tumblr


End file.
